Dealing With It

I've been following the "childless" thread and have wisely refrained from saying anything, since having three kids, it would hardly be appropriate. (wry smile)

However, I think there are several spinoffs from that discussion and the one I'd like to know is -- how DO you deal with major life disappointments?

My way had been a combination of denial with the occasional bit of belligerance tossed in. I was pregnant and married at 17 (still married to the same great guy) which meant while my friends were experiencing college and/or the workplace complete with happy hours, dating, etc., I was not. But I'd decided right away that I refused to be ashamed, and I refused to act embarrassed, and just charged forward. I have friends who in similar situations went on to college, held down jobs, raised families -- sorry, I'm not cut that way. Other than two or three years before my second son was born, I haven't worked outside the home (except for occasional temp work). I can barely handle one thing well, and could never have juggled so many. Which yes, sometimes makes me feel inadequate, but, hey, not enough that I've ever lost sleep over it.

A friend told me that when she was pregnant with her second child, she wanted a daughter so badly that she cried after the birth of her second son, because she knew she'd never have a daughter. That upset me so much -- I swore I would NEVER set myself up that way, to CRY because I had a healthy baby! -- and when I got pregnant with my second child I decided (yes, DECIDED) that my first son was so perfect, I would absolutely LOVE to have a second one just like him. (Even though yes, I'd really wanted a girl.) When women said to me (too many times to count), "Well of course THIS time you want a girl," I'd respond with wide eyes, like the true southern lady my grandmother tried to make me into, "Really! Why would I?" And keep playing dumb while they kept trying to explain to me why I should want a girl more than a boy, until they got embarrassed and shut up. Ahem. Or sometimes I'd give them a more direct, curt answer. By the time I was pregnant with my third son? Oh, the poor women (strangers and friends alike) who dared tell me I wanted a girl THIS time didn't say it twice.

But more significantly, I don't have a college degree; by the time my kids were all in school and I assumed I'd be going back myself, I'd begun writing and was just so happy to have all those hours to myself, I couldn't even think of enrolling in classes again. I still plan to do it -- I'd love to. But I'd have to figure out a major (still haven't come up with anything that excites me enough) and quit doing the things I'm doing now. So yes, it's my choice not to have one but it doesn't make it easier when people share educational experiences that I didn't have, and I see a window into some of the stuff I've missed.... That "life" I gave up when I was 17.

But here's the thing. Yes, I have missed a million things my friends didn't miss, and my way of dealing with that was to simply decide I couldn't let myself care. Denial. And then go about building a life that would prove it -- to me and to them -- that I hadn't made a mistake. (Ah, the ego thing.) What? 17 and pregnant? Whatever. It's no big deal. We'll make it work. (And then, I had to do that.) I guess this is what "fake it till you make it" is all about.

I'm not advising denial or belligerance. I'm assuming/hoping there are a lot of other ways of handling loss and disappointment.

I'm just saying, this is how I've handled it myself. It doesn't mean I haven't shed tears and suffered doubts and qualms and beat myself up over my mistakes a million times, and wondered why certain things happened to me that didn't to other people. It just means that my way of dealing with it was to cry, and then move forward and pretend I didn't care, until the years passed and I looked back and realized I had created a reality for myself -- I really don't care now. I have been through all kinds of hell one way or another, but I love where I am now.

Would I be in a better place if my life had taken other turns? Maybe. Would I have been a better parent if I were older? Ouch, that's the biggie. The one huge regret I had was that we were such young parents, I felt I didn't do a good job emotionally with my kids. (At the time I thought we were doing great, but looking back I sometimes cringe!)

But two things happened. They grew up and they are great guys and they still love me (how did that happen?) so I didn't scar them for life, and they like each other and I love being around them, so maybe we did okay after all.

And I have three (count them THREE) women I know well who had their first (and only) babies when they were 41. And I've seen them and their husbands make mistakes. (How fun, since there was a time when two of them were tut-tutting over the mistakes WE were making, and now they ask us for advice. Heh.) And it finally hit me -- we all make mistakes. The mistakes I made were due to youth, but being older would have simply meant we made different mistakes, not no mistakes. Wow, what a revelation.

So now my husband and I have the benefit of being young and having enough health and youth stretching ahead of us to feel pretty free.

How have others handled "dealing with it," whatever "it" is?

Um ... as free as you can feel with sick, elderlies who need you, and grown kids who still need you. They don't call it the sandwich generation for nothing! But hey, that's life.

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Originally Posted by pooks

And it finally hit me -- we all make mistakes. The mistakes I made were due to youth, but being older would have simply meant we made different mistakes, not no mistakes. Wow, what a revelation.

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That's good. Thanks for sharing. I think I'm in your same category of denial and belligerence. As my mom says, "you're just hard-headed." Ok, yeah, but I'm also the happily married one and the only member of my family who isn't morbidly obese and depressed.

My sister's "belligerance" is in "not looking like Mother." My mother has had a weight problem from middle age on, after starting off life very thin. So for my sister, that goal has always kept her from gaining too much weight.

Yet for me, as much as I'd prefer not to be overweight, I don't carry around the urgency and motivation my sister does, for one reason. Yes, I want to lose weight and am trying to increase my calorie-burn so that I can still eat things I like within reason, and still lose.

But if I did, that belligerance would have kept me thin. Darn it!

I hear you about the sex thing. When I had my first son (i wanted a girl) the lady in the room next to me already had all the stuff for her unborn child. This was back before the sonogram days, so she didn't know what she was having. She just KNEW she was going to have a girl. She had pink stuff all over the room, I was revolted. So my first kid was a boy, (and an amazingly easy baby) so I had another one... who was supposed to be a girl. wrong again.
CRY because it's the wrong sex? How minor a thing is that? my babies both had 10 fingers and 10 toes, and grew up to be great guys. I was glad I had two boys, and if DH hadn't had a vasectomy while i was still pg with #2, i would have been happy to have 3 boys. heck, i wouldn't know what to do with a girl!

I agree, you have to accept what life gives you.
how's it go, accept the things you cannot change, change the things you can, have the wisdom to know the difference?

ps my older son is going to a halloween party saturday dressed as a girl with a girl who is dressed like a boy for his date. He is even SHAVING HIS BEARD for this event!
(this really wierds me out, he thinks it's funny)

Interesting question. Just a little bit about me for context. I'm 37, single and childless. I grew up in what was, objectively, a dysfunctional home. Of the three children in my family, I am the only one without a drug or alcohol dependency. Thankfully, none of the above three sentences actually reflects my reality, but that's after a lot of work.

I'm not ashamed to admit that after about 33 years of trying to deal with my family and upbringing, I decided to see a therapist. That was over three years ago, and my life has changed so much in that time. Therapy hasn't been a cure-all, but it has made it possible for me to love and accept myself more fully, to better realize happiness in my life and to develop and maintain the type of relationships that I want to have. I still encounter problems and set-backs, but I'm not better able to deal with and bounce back from them. My "highs" are higher and my lows are less frequent and less intense. So how do I deal with disappointment? In no particular order:

While "denial" is a natural part of grief and loss (and I can't say that I avoid it altogether), I try to acknowledge and respect my feelings, rather than deny them. In my experience, denial only serves to magnify the feeling; the feelings eventually come out "sideways" anyway, leading to arguably counterproductive behaviors. Interestingly, as my therapist points out, I identify a lot of my emotions as "being mad." I've gotten a lot better at admitting when I'm feeling sad, hurt, disappointed, insulted, etc. Calling a feeling what it really is helps diffuse it.

My therapist and I spend a lot of time talking about the "snake and the worm." Many of the current disappointments in my life (the "worm") often seem more acute because of something in my family or in my past (the "snake"). By identifying the snake for what it is and the worm for what it is, I am better able to understand what's really making me upset and better able to deal with it.

I try to practice healthy coping skills when I'm going through a loss. I practice yoga, I ride my bike, I reach out to friends, I take the time to do little things for myself that make me feel better. A friend of mine said the other day that "no one can take better care of me than me." So true. In the wake of a loss, I often try to focus on life-affirming things. For instance, I ended a relationship about five years ago with someone I truly loved. A few months later, I decided to take my first solo trip to Europe. It was incredibly healing and I have followed up with several other trips, each of which has made me feel "alive." Alive is good. More recently, in the wake of yet another breakfup, I have renewed some volunteering efforts. I hope to help other people in so doing but also know that I will help myself.

Most importantly, I pay close attention to what I tell myself about me. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that bad things happen to me (or, as is more often the case, that good things don't happen to me) because I'm a bad/unlovable person. I try to stop myself from that kind of thinking. Even when I know I've made a mistake, I'm careful about making negative generalizations about myself and try to keep the mistake in the perspective of my larger (mostly good) self.

More philosophically, I try to remember that happiness--no matter what life looks like on paper--is not something that just "happens." It's largely a choice. Some days that choice is hard; some days it's easy. It's wrong for me to assume that anybody else's life does not involve that same choice. AT times, I may envy my friends who are married with children, but their lives can be and often are just as difficult and just as lonely. Now that I feel more empowered with the help of therapy, that "choice" is very exciting to me. My life need not be a reflection of my family or upbringing.

I would note that since I've starting biking, everyone agrees that I'm a lot happier.

For years, the way I coped with difficult things in my life was to be with my horse. I can't even tell you how many times I cried on his shoulder! I talked to him for hours... he was the best listener. He was my best friend and companion for fourteen years. I had to put him down at the age of 21, three years ago on October 15th. This is too sad for words. When I think of him, which is often, I stop breathing for a second and my throat just closes up. Even though DH and I had been together for seven years by then, DH told me that night was the first time he ever saw me cry. I had done all my crying with my boy!

Now? Now what do I do? I take a walk in the trees, I weave at my loom, I breathe. I do the things that make me feel connected to the past ~ this settles me, and helps me realize that, at my core, I'm okay. And, sometimes, I cry on DH's shoulder, and that's okay too.

Haudlady, your post really choked me up. I'm an animal person and totally understand that type of connection with a pet. I'm sorry that you lost him.

Kate

I've cried on my dogs' shoulders many, many times. There's something so totally comforting about animals, and I do have a preference for those that actually are big enough to have shoulders to cry on.

One more thing. After starting this thread this morning, I spent the rest of the day at the hospital with my mother-in-law, worrying that my intentions didn't come across. And now that I've read my posts again, I realize they probably didn't (although luckily others have done a better job than I did). I hope I didn't come across as insensitive. Sigh. I have trouble when I try to post something "sensitive." I overthink, and usually botch it. When I don't overthink and just write from the heart and hit send, I also usually botch it.

For somebody who earns money with words, I'm not that good with words when they're important.

Indy, I do believe cycling is the primary thing that is helping me deal with stuff right now, and it has also made me stronger in many ways that have nothing to do with muscles.

I'm too young to have as many hard, sad decisions behind me as I do. I've lived through some pretty major abuse and a rare disease, I gave up a major life dream, I've had a child die and I've been all but left at the altar (these are all stories that are too personal to me to talk about, no matter how wonderful you ladies are). I'm only 31.

On the short term, I gave up a perfectly decent job on ethical principles, I had my bike and my confidence wrecked in a car accident, I lost my boyfriend of almost two years, I'm still healing up after a serious tissue infection and I put my back out. All that in the last eight weeks.

Some of these things are choices I made for myself, and others are not. Others may argue that they are results of choices I made further back in time, but some things you just don't choose - like the MRSA. I didn't choose to develop an abcess; all I can do is choose what to do about it. I DID choose to go back to school, and now I also have decisions to make about the unforseen impacts that has had on my life. Having an understanding of my own choices, along with knowing that life WILL go on - that's the core of "dealing with it."

So to balance out that litany of tragedies and obstacles, let me also share with you some of the other amazing things that I have chosen to do:

I forgave and and am now friends with my ex fiancee.

I spent two years training to box - I even participated in four tournaments, and loved the experience even though I lost all my matches.

I learned target archery and got my certificate to teach it, and did so for five wonderful summers at Girl Scout camp.

I returned to school to finish my BA after dropping out of college.

I gave up a perfectly good job on ethical principles. That's on my negative list too, but it really is both - I'm proud of myself for it, even if it's also been a sizeable hardship.

I went back to school again to persue a new dream. I've had to give up a lot of things to do it, and I'm putting myself into serious debt, but it will be worth it in the long run.

Haudlady, I hear you on the pony love. Sometimes I wish I had an affectionate horse. In nine years, my boy has only let me cry on his shoulder once or twice, if it was really important (read: about him). Any other time he nudges me off and says, "get yourself together, woman!"

But he cares, he does. If he's scared he calls to me. If he's hurt he comes to me.

Come to think of it... what a narcissistic horse. But he's honest and sweet and mischevious and I forget about the world when I'm with him.

I had to lease him when I went to university. I lasted two years. Went crazy without him. Saved up every penny and took him back. He is completely my sanity.

Ah

Such an interesting topic

I do things in staccato. Short bursts of whatever. It's how I ride, I speak, I type, I do (did) yoga.... possibly not the best way of being, but that which is natural to me.

So when it comes to dealing with things, I have great methods of coping with short term stress. I've learned to visualize myself surrounded by butterflies. This works particularly well when riding on a road bike and feeling very vulnerable in the traffic. This is a hard thing to maintain when the difficulty or fear lasts more than through that one activity...when it's something that has affected your life.

Although I feel like I'm a happy and lucky person, there have been some difficult situations that have made me (and usually DH too) feel very alone, and, since I'm not one who easily asks for help, the feeling of aloneness lasts a long time.

If there's any truth to emotions changing our physical lives, whatever is wrong in my guts right now might be a direct result of not having coped well with those difficult times in the past. I've made efforts to take this difficult time and try to cope with it better.

What am I doing differently? Listening to my body better. I rest when I feel the need to rest, I start each day with gentle slow yoga (not the powerful too-fast yoga full of one-legged and arm balances that I used to do), when I thought I had an answer and it evaporated earlier this week, I vented - I was disappointed, sad, a little angry and I posted here, and called friends, and emailed friends, and told myself I could be sad for an evening. That was Monday and today I truly feel happy and there will be resolve from this.

I think maybe I'm learning to be less staccato, at least some of the time. That's probably good for coping.

Of course, through everything, taking pictures is as magical and powerful and connecting to earth's amazing energy for me as a church is to someone religious. It's important to have something like that in your life.

I have no idea if this makes any sense to anyone. I've written this post in staccato, too....I've gotten up several times while writing this!

Hugs and butterflies,
~T~

I just wanted to thank those of you who've contributed to this thread. For as many things I've had to deal with in my life, I'm humbled and moved when I read about what other people have gone through--and the strength and resilience that they exhibit. I wish we didn't have to go through those things in the first place, but the fact that we survive and thrive in the wake of hardship is very life affirming.

I hope, too, that my comments about happiness as a choice aren't misinterpreted. I certainly don't want to suggest that people choose to have bad things happen to them. Certainly, all manner of tragedy strikes for no reason at all. I wish it came easier, but my day-to-day happiness is something that takes work. In that sense, I try more often than not to choose to work at it, e.g., by employing healthy ways to cope, by acknowledging my feelings, by reaching to people. I hope that makes sense.

Kate

I think we all know that at times, emotions simply ARE and you not only can you not "choose" to change them, but you shouldn't. There's a time to mourn, a time to feel sad, a time to be angry and even bitter. But I think it's also empowering to discover that not only is it healthy to experience that emotion, you also have the ability to choose to move on, and I think that's what "happiness is a choice" is all about. It's also an action. It's finding the way to build a new, different happiness from the one you dreamed of into your life and move forward.

Not always easy, but considering the other option....

I hear your whole post, Pooks. My story is very similar to yours, even down to 3 sons, but I was 20, and I'm married to someone else now. Your whole post screams EMPOWERMENT to me. You are in possession of a sense of empowerment and are not afraid to take responsibility for your own choices. I had this happen and that happen and this, and it's not worse or better. It's just different.

Is it what it is.

What an empowering thing to know.

A friend of mine used to ask herself, "What do I have in my hand?" By which she meant, I will do what is next, based on her available choices. She had 12 kids, and faced much adversity and in the meantime changed the world. So, I ask myself often, too, when things look bad or uncertain..."what's in my hand?" and I use it. The power to choose is *always* there.

I loved your whole post, Pooks. Inspiring and full of good examples about what TO do. Thanks.

Karen

As a very messed up product of a very ugly divorce, I learned the best way for me to "deal" was to supress. But what would happen is that every so often, I would have a breakdown. Not a mental breakdown where I needed intervention, but a breakdown that caused all the things I had been supressing to boil at the surface and leave me a wreck. I began to get depressed without realizing I was depressed.

My strength did not come from therapy. It came from my husband. He was the first one who made me examine the things I was supressing so that I was able to pick apart the pieces that I was responsible for, and for those that I wasn't. And once I made the choice not to supress but to find closure, be it good or bad, I found my "happy place".

I still have issues. But I too have chosen to move on. To leave them in the past and ENJOY my life for a change. So how do I deal now? I vent instead of supress so I get it out. And come the next day, or next hour, and sometimes even the next minute, I am ok. And I smile.

People sometimes tell me they think I'm "wise beyond my years" but that's only because I have such a good idea of what "should be"... not that I adhere to that very well. I regret not having been more socially skilled as a kid. Glasses, braces and excema, I was also cursed with intelligence and managed to be fairly well outcast in my class. I loved athletic activity, but my sheer terror at the thought of what being on a team and being the klutz I knew myself to be, I never went out for sports.
I fell in love young and threw away what was looking to be a very promising high school stint and probable college scholarship for love. It was true enough, that man was my sanity as I grew up and I was his, in a way. I hurt our relationship irreparably my last year of highschool, telling him he was 2k miles away, and I'd never been with anyone else- how could I know if he was "the one" for me? He didn't understand it, and nearly killed himself "fasting" though I asked if he *could do that* with his diabetes. He assured me he could, and went into ketoacidosis a few days later. We made up over the ICU phone, and I don't think I've ever cried so hard. He took the bus five days to get to Wisconsin for my graduation ceremony (after having dropped out of highschool and gotten his GED the previous year) and I was happy to see him, and he had to assure me that it was him, and I needn't worry- he was healthy, and strong... but something was different. The passion I had for him before was gone, and I didn't know if it was me or my depo (I'd thought I'd plan ahead) but it just wasn't there... and I was having serious second thoughts about leaving WI. In the end, I did, and had a miserable first year in Oregon, getting married and being afraid to tell my parents, so I just didn't. He was supportive, but having never had another partner, I had no idea what my expectations should be. I had an excellent job and complained about it because I had no idea what my expectations should have been... All these wonderful things just fell into my lap and I just didn't have the life experience to appreciate them.
Those are my first regrets.

My second, having not had the experience I had, I threw away my marriage because I didn't know what life would be with someone else, but knew also that if I left him, he would never take me back. I was happy about it for awhile... he was much more sexually active than I was and I always felt hounded. When he started dating someone just as sexually driven (if not moreso) than he was, it felt weird. They became big players in the Kink community, and I settled into a very quiet, vanilla relationship with my gf.
I regret having not worked harder on the marriage, but he and I could not match our drives... and after awhile, my disinterest became a sort of dread. It was doomed to happen, I only regret that he wasn't always the handsome, sweet, compassionate and intelligent young man I fell in love with. I realised that young man was dead when I saw him post a poorly written account of D/s sex in his blog, describing it in words quite far from the love letters we'd exchanged years ago.

I regret leaving Jack and Tsuki with my ex, because DGF is allergic to cats. Tsuki was my baby and my sanity through the most difficult parts of our marriage. I remember cuddling Tsuki as a kitten, crying into her fur, and deciding I couldn't inject XH's insulin because who would take care of our baby then? When Ry and I started sleeping in separate bedrooms, she stayed with me (while Jack meandered the house). She knew. When he brought his new gf over, Tsuki hated her, peed on her things and hid under my bed. When DGF came over, Tsuki wound around her ankles and curled up, close beside her, and thanks to the claratin, that wasn't much of a problem...

My final set of regrets- that I hadn't met my girlfriend and best friend earlier in my life. She has shown me how to find all the strength I'd forgotten I'd had in XH's strong embrace. He'd been so set on protecting me that I'd forgotten that I could be a strong, resiliant woman myself. DGF has shown me that I can be an athlete who doesn't have to be afraid to go places alone, or seek out friends that can be 'mine' instead of 'hers' or 'ours'. She's shown me what it's like to tell someone you love them without saying a word, and how to take the time- all the time in the world- to draw intricate dance steps with one's fingers on the hills and valleys of another's body and not lose patience in this meandering. I regret sometimes having not been stronger for her when in the process of my divorce, her breakup, and the ugly moving-on of her ex... I regret not working the hours she does to support us, but I also know it'd harm my health to do so. I regret not having the magical ability to keep her from doing so.

How have I dealt with it?
...you can't go backward- you can't unring the bell. You just have to follow the new path of your life and keep going. Some changes are bad, and yes, some are your fault. Accept it. The river's course has changed. Follow it. There's always at least one way out. I've come to accept that I am the only one who can really control my life. I'll control the way I live it, with luck and chance added in for variety, and I only hope I can control the way it ends.

Sorry for the book, ladies... I just haven't spewed like that in a long time.

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Originally Posted by Kitsune06

People sometimes tell me they think I'm "wise beyond my years" but that's only because I have such a good idea of what "should be"... How have I dealt with it?
...you can't go backward- you can't unring the bell. You just have to follow the new path of your life and keep going. Some changes are bad, and yes, some are your fault. Accept it. The river's course has changed. Follow it. There's always at least one way out. I've come to accept that I am the only one who can really control my life. I'll control the way I live it, with luck and chance added in for variety, and I only hope I can control the way it ends.

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Wise beyond your years? I'd have to agree. You are one of the old souls.

Pooks,

When I compare myself to others, I'm always "less than" or "better than" - never equal. So, I try to accept that others have their path and I have mine.

Um. Very good thread. I'm sort of at a loss here, because so much of what you have been writing is stuff I've been spending a lot of time and thought on the last few months. My brother died 3 months ago of a heart attack, 41 years old and leaving a wife and 9 yr old son, and a stunned family. We had no prior warning at all, one day he was somewhat overweight but healthy, the next day he was dead. My grandmother died a few weeks later, sad, disoriented and lonely. Since then I've been observing my own reactions at a distance, and writing down some of it.

I've realized how incredibly privileged I've been so far. I've learnt to appreciate people's sympathy no matter the actual words they say, and I've learnt to never, ever again be too embarrassed or shy to say something sympathetic to someone in grief. I've learnt that grieving for someone is not a linear process, where it's awful at first but gets better each day - it's more that it's awful at times, but the awful times get fewer and further apart, and slightly less awful. In the meantime everything can be fine, I can tell jokes, and laugh at things and enjoy life.

I've learnt what used to trigger a bad mood can now trigger black despair, so I've learnt to not get too hungry, not get too little sleep, and to exercise every day if possible. Hey - I can use all the endorfins I can get, and decided pretty fast to become a fullfledged endorfin junkie ;) I've learnt that the smallest things can trigger a crying jag - hearing a song from a record that my brother had - but that I can in fact just look away and it does pass quickly. I don't have to tell everybody around me what I'm thinking or feeling, even though it may feel good at the moment.

I've learned how self-centered one gets in a crisis, and how people stop feeling sorry for you quite fast. Which is sometimes nice - to feel normal again, and sometimes very lonely. I've found out that the hardest part is not the grieving bit - grieving is easy! - but how to stop grieving, how to cope and pack it all up small enough to take with you but not overwhelm you. There went my syntax.

All of this isn't really much help in how to cope with bad stuff in the long run, but small bits of insight that come in handy in my own personal Owners Manual...

PS. "What's in my hand?" Excellent. I'm keeping that one.

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Originally Posted by CyclChyk

My strength did not come from therapy. It came from my husband. He was the first one who made me examine the things I was supressing so that I was able to pick apart the pieces that I was responsible for, and for those that I wasn't.

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What a very wise man. (I almost wrote "guy" and realized that could be taken several ways!) When I went through confirmation classes about five years ago to join the Episcopal Church, one thing the priest said to me was rather startling. He was talking about the Episcopal view of "confession," (not required -- I think the adage is, "All may, no one must, some should.)

And he mentioned that frequently when somebody came to him for confession, they confessed to "sins" that they'd felt immense guilt and pain over for years or even decades -- which weren't sins at all. He said that sometimes somebody just needs to hear the words, "You're forgiven," and other times they need to hear, "Goodness gracious child, that's no sin." LOL

I haven't ever been to confession, but if I were to go, I'm sure I'd go to him!

Sounds like your husband has that gift.

So many people have said such wonderful things, it's impossible to respond to them all.

Pooks, I am a catholic. No longer a practicing one and for that as well I feel a measure of "guilt". I have been to confession where it did nothing to make me feel better or "cleansed". The priest you speak of sounds like a very wise man and one that could very possibly make me a practicing catholic once again.

And yeh, I kinda lucked out in the DH department. I'm still trying to figure out what I did to deserve him.

(((((((everybody)))))) Lets all go have a beer / soda and a group hug. I for one could use it :)

I am back, to see more sensational posts!
I too, am the product of a broken marriage. My parents (who both loved me) acted like total donkey anuses for years to each other for years, including telling me, as a 6 year old what to tell my $#@$# father.. I decided early on that this would not be a pattern that I would repeat.
I raised my sons with enough love and attention that they are still friends today as adults and I am still married to my woefully imperfect husband. Yeah, i'm pretty imperfect too.
Like LPH, i had to lose my father and my grandmother before I understood how to deal with other people's grief. . . I had no idea!

thanks all for posting. Incredible strength and honesty in this thread!

I'm touched by so many things said here, by so much loss, so much experience, and so many viewpoints. We're all so wonderfully human!

I had to share "what's in my hands" with DH and he, too, loved it.

I describe it as taking that great and overbearing notion to not try to control what you can't control and instead putting in practical terms that are intimate and meaningful. It also relates to the tarot...:p

As for grief, yes, it takes losing someone very special (in our case, our first dog, Yogi, who passed away from cancer), for compassion to blossom, especially after having been raised to be a judgmental catholic. (Yes, I join the ranks of the recovering catholics on this forum)

So many thoughts and feelings here! I agree it's time for us all to head to a friendly beach pub.....

Hugs and butterflies,
~T~

When my daughter was sick, DH and I decided that we couldn't live life "waiting for the next shoe to drop". Sometimes that was easier said than done, but I have lived that way for several years now. You can't live your life waiting for the next bad thing to happen. We have had our share of "issues" and I choose to keep living and exercising. That is the best thing I can do for myself.

Crazy, I for one agree. And I hate to sound cliche, but I think Tim McGraw said it best when he sang "....and I hope someday you get the chance to live like you were dying".

Each day IS a gift. So often we lose sight of that.

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All of this isn't really much help in how to cope with bad stuff in the long run, but small bits of insight that come in handy in my own personal Owners Manual...

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But there is one thing you said that does help in learning how to cope with bad stuff:

Quote:

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I've realized how incredibly privileged I've been so far.

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That's called counting your blessings. Gratitude. Thankfulness. What do I have in my hand? That is an empowering way to cope. To take stock and see that it's not so bad. Things can even be good in spite of some really bad stuff.

Thanks for the reminder.

Karen

My friend Sonja (85+ and a graduate of the University of Auschwitz, Class of '45) says that life is a made up of episodes; some of which might be quite long and unpleasant. In a crisis she would say to me "Think of your beautiful children", which is quite a common "trick" among Jewish women from there.

To this I would add that I always think these things:

1. At this moment nothing bad is actually happening to me
2. Life goes forward; unlike tv sports there is no reverse angle and no replay. So whatever I have been through today I won't ever have to see or do it ever again
3. You bast-rd(s) don't know me. I'll show you! Just watch!

$0.02

Love Number Three!!!

When my DH was in the hospital for so many weeks (part in ICU), I spent days and nights with him. I went home to feed the dog & cat and to change clothes & get a shower. My world was the brief snippet of home, the drive and the hospital.

Biking is what helped. No, not getting on the bike, I didn't have time for that. I would think of my situation as being like a headwind. I would tell myself, "Just put your head down & pedal."

To this day, people ask me how I made it through. I tell them, "I put my head down and I pedaled." Yup, lots of weird looks.

Margo -- wonderful post.

And I love your biking/headwind answer, dogmama.

My mother was asked why she quilted, and she said, "Quilting keeps me sane." She took care of an invalid mother for several years, and that's when she took up quilting. She says if she hadn't had something she loved to do, she would have died of stress.

Dogmomma, mind if I adopt your motto? I think it's an awesome one.